Work Text:
“Kenma, I… Damn it, I can’t go on.”
“Don’t give up on me now, Tora.”
Yamamoto’s laugh was hard and filled with defeat. “It’s no use, I can hardly see now.”
With his blurred vision, it made the sounds of screams and gunfire that much louder. Fingers coiled into the front of his shirt and yanked him up straight.
“Don’t you dare close your eyes. Who was it that wouldn’t stop spouting off about guts our first year? Where are your guts now?!”
In his weakened state, Yamamoto couldn’t contain the sudden rush of emotions. He blinked furiously to clear his vision, to see Kenma next to him as he stared at everything happening in front of him. His jaw was clenched with concentration, shooting their enemy before they were overrun. His amber eyes flickered to him, pleading for him to hold on.
“Tora, I need you.”
“You… You do?!”
“Yes! Just wake the hell up until we reach a checkpoint.”
“Ken, it’s three in the morning.”
“Too bad Kuro’s at college; he was a better partner than you.”
“I’m ten times the soldier he ever was.”
Kenma smirked. “Then prove it.”
Yamamoto sat up straight and shook his head. The bottom half of the screen was flashing red, letting him know he was seconds from dying if he didn’t pull it together. He only had one med pack left, but they could see the checkpoint from where they were. Perhaps if they worked together, they could make it.
As soon as he healed himself, Yamamoto sped his character through the mob, narrowing his eyes as he unleashed a round of gunfire in front of him to make a path to Kenma.
“Yes,” he hissed under his breath and he heard Kenma huff next to him.
“About time.”
“I’m here now, what’s the plan?”
“We just have to make it over to that tank, ride it down into the valley and make it into the hangar. There’s the checkpoint.”
“Doesn’t sound so hard.”
“There are like, three different armies between us and the hangar right now.”
“Fine, not easy. But we can handle it. What the—” Yamamoto leaned forward with his mouth agape as his character grunted with pain, bullets pelting him from somewhere.
“It’s coming from that trench. Three o’ clock.”
“Take this you bastards,” Yamamoto muttered under his breath as his character tossed a grenade into the trench and ran after Kenma. He cackled with glee as the explosion went off behind him and he wished he had time to pan the camera around to see their body parts flying around.
“Good thing my parents aren’t here with that loud laugh of yours.”
“It’s not as loud as Kuroo-san’s.”
“He doesn’t release it in the middle of the night. Do you want to drive, or do you want to shoot?”
“I’ll shoot, I’m shit at driving.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey!”
It was soft, but Kenma’s laughter could soothe his anger in a heartbeat, no matter how irate he was. They managed to grab the tank and immediately Kenma drove it over half the mob and Yamamoto cackled even louder. With their lengthy experience at communicating on the court, they worked together seamlessly. Hardly a word was passed between them as they coordinated their attacks and somehow, they were able to make it to the hangar.
Yamamoto released a noisy sigh as the words Checkpoint flashed on the screen and the game saved their progress automatically. He tossed the controller onto the bed and fell back, his body aching with exhaustion as if he had been in the game himself, fighting through enemies.
“Okay, I seriously need to sleep.”
“Wimp.”
“Masochist.”
“Pussy.”
Yamamoto lifted his head from the pillow, his mouth agape. Kenma’s lips were pursed as he tried not to smile, keeping his eyes locked on the screen.
“Asshole,” Yamamoto growled and wrapped his arms around Kenma’s waist, trying to pull him down.
“No, no, no! I’ve already started a new mission.”
“Too bad.”
“I will make you regret it!”
“Yeah? What are you going to do?”
“I’ll tell the whole team that you’ve got cute underwear.”
Yamamoto froze, picturing the horrified faces of his underclassmen when they found out. There would be no regaining their respect after that.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Are you kidding? I’ll go into full detail, describing every little cartoon heart and romantic quote.”
“They were just a weird gift from my grandma! I was doing laundry!”
“Will they believe that?”
“Fine.” He released Kenma and shoved him away. “You win, play all night and die of exhaustion.”
“I’m not going to die. You’re so dramatic.”
Kenma situated himself back against the pillow and huffed that he had to start over. Yamamoto watched him for a while, their wrestling match making him even more tired than before. His eyes grew heavy again and he knew he should slip off Kenma’s bed onto the futon just beside it. But the futon was cold and not as comfortable as the bed.
His eyes finally shut and he drew in a deep breath, Kenma’s faint scent on the linens relaxing him even further. It was still strange how much their friendship has changed from first year. Back then there was a chasm between their two extremely different perspectives. But time and familiarity had a way of chiseling down first impressions and narrow-minded ideas to reveal what was underneath.
He used to see Kenma as lazy and disagreeable, but it didn’t take long for his passion to reveal itself in subtle ways. Yamamoto could see his grit and determination to finish whatever he starts and figuring out ways to get around problems; problems he found interesting, that is. His mind was different from his own, but that didn’t make it wrong. In fact, Yamamoto found Kenma to be comforting in that he filled whatever gaps that he lacked, and vice versa.
The only thing that threatened their rapport was that once Yamamoto considered Kenma his closest friend, his feelings didn’t know when to quit. Their bond strengthened every day and his affection for Kenma was like a snowball rolling down a mountain. It was only a matter of time before he was buried beneath an avalanche.
Kenma, however, always seemed the same. He had no doubt Kenma loved him as a friend and teammate, but he gave no indication that he felt more. It was painful, but he knew he could deal with it. It was worth it to keep Kenma by his side for as long as he could.
He was dozing when Kenma finally turned off his game and the screen, the controller flying from his hands and landing somewhere by their feet. It stirred Yamamoto awake but he didn’t dare react or Kenma would catch him and force him onto the futon. He could feel Kenma’s gaze on him and he wondered if he was going to kick him off anyway.
To his relief, Kenma huffed and shuffled under the covers. Freezing cold feet slipped against Yamamoto’s exposed legs and it took every bit of self-control not to wince or punch Kenma in the face. Knowing him, the little rascal probably did it on purpose to test whether he was faking sleep or not.
He fought through the uncomfortable feeling and tried looking on the bright side, which was that Kenma was sleeping next to him. His body was pressed against his in the small bed and their limbs were already entwined. As heat flooded certain parts of his body, Yamamoto realized too late what a dangerous line of thinking that was and tried focusing back on the cold feet pressed against his skin.
“Tora?”
Goosebumps fluttered across Yamamoto’s skin at the sound of Kenma’s whisper. When he didn’t react or respond, a finger tapped his cheek. Then it poked even harder as Kenma snorted although Yamamoto couldn’t see what was so amusing about it. He was about to give up and reveal his consciousness when Kenma shifted even closer. Warm breath stroked across his cheek before Kenma's lips pressed against it. It was a quick, gentle peck and then it was over as Kenma quickly pulled away.
Yamamoto remained frozen as the bed shifted underneath him, disturbed by Kenma shuffling to his side and keeping his back toward Yamamoto. Only then did he dare open his eyes and stare at Kenma’s blonde hair spilling over the pillow, barely visible as he pulled the sheet almost over his head. Kenma didn’t know he was awake, yet the action seemed to embarrass him anyway. It was so adorable it made Yamamoto’s chest ache.
The minutes ticked by slowly, sleep constantly evading him and he fully blamed Kenma. Was that just a friendly kiss? But Kenma wasn’t one to show affection like that, even to his closest friends. It was almost tempting to slip his phone out and text Kuroo, asking if Kenma ever did such a thing with him. It was too early in the morning, however, and he knew his old captain would have some very choice words for him texting him at that time.
He laid there for a while, staring at the ceiling and wondering what it all meant when the bed shifted again. His eyes snapped shut just in time as Kenma muttered under his breath and flipped over to his other side. Fingers gripped around Yamamoto’s arm and pulled it out straight. Kenma’s body slid even closer, his feathery hair tickling across his arm before his head nestled into Yamamoto’s shoulder.
It was only there a moment before Kenma huffed again and lifted up to brush his lips against Yamamoto’s cheek again. This time he didn’t shy away but nuzzled for a bit, delicate little kisses peppering across his face until they started to drift toward his lips. Yamamoto hoped Kenma didn’t touch his chest, otherwise, he would be able to feel his thundering heart just underneath and he’d be found out. He clenched his fist at his side hoping he could remain still enough that Kenma wouldn’t stop. It was a dream come true feeling his lips graze over his skin. And at the same time, it was torture.
Just before their lips touched, Kenma hesitated as he hovered over him. His breath puffed against Yamamoto’s lips, making them tremble with desire. At last, Kenma leaned down and kissed the corner of his lip. He sighed as he repeated the action over and over as he made his way to the center of Yamamoto’s lips. When he finally made it, Kenma pressed his lips against Yamamoto’s and held it there for several moments before pulling away slightly.
Yamamoto’s self-control was obliterated completely. He turned his face slightly and their lips came back together. He felt Kenma’s breath hitch, but his surprise didn’t keep him from opening his lips wider. They both hummed as Yamamoto cautiously slipped his arm around Kenma’s waist, pulling him in closer. His other hand slipped through Kenma’s hair, the blonde strands feeling like silk against his rough fingertips.
“You weren’t asleep at all, were you?” Kenma accused him when he paused to take a breath. Yamamoto fluttered his eyes open and in the dim light, he could see Kenma’s smirk. He relaxed and snickered as he leaned in to peck the curve of his lips.
“I was until some naughty person started kissing me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have been having a weird dream.”
“Bullshit!” Yamamoto laughed and rolled over on top of Kenma. He pinned his hands above his head and blew an obnoxiously loud raspberry against his cheek. Kenma’s stream of expletives would have been more vicious had it not been interrupted by his own laughter. Yamamoto grinned against Kenma’s skin and growled in his throat as he pretended to gnaw on Kenma’s lower jaw.
As his teeth and lips worked lower onto Kenma’s throat, his light biting softened into sensuously long kisses. His hands released Kenma’s hands and grazed down his arms, not stopping until they settled on Kenma’s ribs. With his hands freed, Kenma slipped them into Yamamoto’s mohawk and gasped as the lips on his skin began to suck. His encouraging whines reverberated into Yamamoto’s lips and sent shivers cascading through his body. It didn’t matter at that point how exhausted he was, his adrenaline was keeping him going.
With a sudden burst of courage, Yamamoto popped off Kenma’s throat and licked his lips. “Hey, Ken? I really like you. Way more than a friend.”
“Ugh, that’s unfortunate.”
Yamamoto’s jaw dropped as he straightened up to look Kenma in the eye. Kenma took one look at his dismay and sputtered with laughter. He shook his head and wrapped his arms around Yamamoto’s neck to pull him back down.
“Like I’d do anything like this with someone I didn’t like.”
“Good. I’ll get my revenge though for you nearly breaking my heart.”
“I don’t fear you. Since you’re so awake though, we could play a few more rounds at least.”
He started to slip out from underneath Yamamoto when a muscular arm dropped on top of him, shoving him back to the mattress. With a grunt, he tried lifting it but it wouldn’t budge.
“Best revenge, forcing you to sleep when you want to play.”
“Let me go.”
“Nope! Snuggle time with my boyfriend.”
“I never said I’d go out with you.”
“Too late, the kisses were binding.”
Instead of arguing the ridiculous point, Kenma stopped struggling and buried his face in his palms, laughing softly. Yamamoto giggled and pulled him a little closer, nuzzling his face against Kenma’s neck. He could feel Kenma’s body relaxing beside him and after a moment his head cocked, so it could rest against Yamamoto’s. Even knowing that Kenma would have his own act of revenge in the future couldn’t keep him awake as he heaved one last sigh, Kenma’s body warm and comfortable against him and his mind eased of all its worries.